


Predator and Prey

by Slaskia



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Attempted Murder, Gen, Murderers, Organized Crime, Serial Killers, Social Justice, Vampires, Vigilantism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-25
Updated: 2015-03-25
Packaged: 2018-03-19 14:49:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3613941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slaskia/pseuds/Slaskia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Usyle Museun is a member of a dangerous criminal organization called the Black Syndicate.  On a mission to look for possible areas for the Syndicate to expand to, he also hunts for victims to satisfy a particular vice of his.  However, this time, he may have bitten off more than he could chew, as the woman he targeted is not what she seems to be....</p>
            </blockquote>





	Predator and Prey

_Ario’s Inn & Tavern, Zesentis, Palaven_

Jun 16, 2186 CE, 2213 hrs

 

The place reeked of a mix of alcohol, cigarettes and vomit.  Looking around, he noted the furniture was in various states of disrepair: a few looked like they were hastily put back together with whatever tape or other adhesive the owner had on hand.  The patrons themselves didn’t look much better, the lot of them looking like they came from the dredges of society, having scrapped together enough money to come to a shithole like this to drown their sorrows. 

Some will eventually pick themselves back up and become productive members of society.  Others will languish in their misery for a lot longer, perhaps never getting back on their feet again.  If they didn’t turn to a life of crime out of desperation, they would likely fall victim to those that are less then lawful citizens. 

People like him. 

Usyle smirked faintly as he strode into the establishment, soaking in the ambiance of sorrow and despair.   He hoped to find a hit tonight, as he hadn’t had a fix in a while.  A quick scan of the tavern told him he may be out of luck again.  _I got time,_ he thought as he approached the bartender.  _I can wait a bit to see if one turns up_.  “Palaven sunrise, please,” he requested. 

“Going to stay light again, tonight?” the barkeep asked as he prepared his drink. 

“Depends on how the night goes.” 

“Usually does.” 

After getting his drink he turned to find a nice place to sit and watch the crowd.  There was a lovely spot in the corner, just under the stairway that led to the inn rooms, where he could watch everyone and not be easily noticed.  However, he realized now that someone else had gotten the same idea and beaten him too it. 

Sitting there was a turian woman. She looked to be in her mid-twenties, grey skin, and yellow eyes practically glowing through the sockets of her light grey carapace.  Clothing looked rather ragged, like she had hit on hard times, like a lot of other people in this city.  She had colony markings, but from this distance she couldn’t make them out too well.  Her left arm seemed oddly shaped as well, but he wasn’t sure if it was due to the lighting playing tricks with his eyes. 

“Barkeep, who is that?” he asked, softly. 

“Don’t know,” the bartender replied, shrugging his shoulders.  “Came in shortly after sundown, been sitting there ever since.  No one’s bothered her, but from what I saw of her, no one would want to approach her anyway.” 

“Why is that?” 

“I noticed some scarring on the left side of her face and I bet you those scars go all the way down her left side, seeing she’s missing most of her left forearm.  Also has a nasty limp on that side.  Then there’s the overbite.” 

_Perfect!_ Usyle thought, carefully keeping his face looking interested but not showing the excitement he was feeling.  “I see,” he said softly.  “Sounds like she has an interesting story to tell.” 

“Hmph, from her markings she’s most likely from _Revati_ , meaning she’s probably one of those Black Syndicate bastards.” 

“Now, now, we mustn’t judge someone by their colony markings,” Usyle chided, while mentally squelching the desire to throttle the man.  He was from _Revati_ himself, though he had hidden his colony markings of avoiding that very assumption.  Granted, that assumption would be correct, as he _is_ a member of the Syndicate.  

He was supposed to be casing this city to see if it was possible to expand the Syndicate’s influence to this planet.  Other agents were doing similar on other planets, like Oma Ker and Taetrus.  He had already checked out Digerus in this cluster, but determined that they may get too much trouble from the _Tyranors_ , a particularly persistent anti-Hierarchy group.  Said group also had a presence here on Palaven, but so far not so strong that they may prevent the Syndicate from moving in.  It was boring work and not what he preferred doing:  going after those that caused the Syndicate problems. 

Seeing the woman was from the same planet, she likely was a refugee trying to get away from the Syndicate.  Such refugees were always annoying, as they usually were quick to bad mouth the Syndicate, which led to problems with their plans for expansion.  Hell, refugees were the cause of a few _hastatim_ sweeps, which were annoying but largely ineffective against the Syndicate as a whole, due to number of inside agents they have in the local government.  _Perhaps I can nip a potential problem refugee ‘and’ get my fix in one go,_ he thought with a smile. 

With that thought in mind, he made his way over there, having to sidestep a drunk on the way.  As he got closer, he could pick out more of her features. Her brow plates were fairly large, the tip curving down toward her cheek fringe, which was somewhat short.  The rest of her fringe didn’t appear to be much longer, all of them having gentle downward curve.  Her mandibles had an inward curve on the front-end, while at the back they had a similar curve on the top side, the back end of the mandibles coming up into a definite point.  Her colony markings were a dark, slightly desaturated blue and served to only bring out her yellow eyes even more.  Striking a contrast against her grey carapace were the two teeth that indicated the overbite that was mentioned.  Usyle had to admit they looked rather out of place on a face that would otherwise be rather pretty. 

Now nearly at her table, he could see the scarring on her face the barkeep mentioned before.  It wasn’t every extensive there, just on the bottom edges of her left mandible, cheek fringe and brow plate.  Definitely burn scars and the few straight scars he could also see told him she was the lucky survivor of an explosion.  

He also gauged her disposition:  she seemed somewhat aloof, despondent and so far unaware of his approach.  That was until he was right next to her table, at which point her head snapped up to regard him.  “Can I help you?” she asked, her voice low and questioning, mandibles twitching slightly in annoyance. 

“My apologies, miss,” he said, bowing slightly.  “I usually sit at this table and was rather surprised to see a pretty lady sitting at it this night.” 

“Pretty?” she said with a laugh.  “You’re either half-blind or drunk, most likely the latter.”  Her eyes stared pointedly at the glass in his hand. 

“I actually haven’t even started drinking yet, having only just arrived here.” He slid into the seat across from her, to which she briefly sneered in disapproval.  “Besides, I know how to look past little things like scars.” 

“How about things like this?”  She placed her left arm on the table, displaying the stump of her forearm in all its scarred glory.  He noticed she had an omni-tool band around the base of it, near the elbow. 

“I can work around that,” he responded with a casual shrug.  “Though I admit I’ve never seen someone wearing their omni-tool on amputated limb.” 

“Well I don’t exactly have a _hand_ to operate it with on that arm anymore, so I couldn’t exactly wear it on my _right_ arm.” 

“Point taken.”  After a pause he asked.  “Call it morbid curiosity, but what happened?” 

“The Black Syndicate.” Her voice was full of venom.  “An organized crime group on my colony.  I was just minding my own business, trying to work an honest job, when those bastards decided to blow up my workplace all because we told them we didn’t need their…”  She lifted up her remaining hand and started doing the air-quotes bit.  “‘Protection’”” 

_Ah, yes, she will definitely need to be made quiet,_ he thought.  _Too keep her from tarnishing our good name any further._ Usyle was familiar with the ‘protection’ side of their operation, hell he participated in a few over the years.  Sometimes the locals had to be _convinced_ that the Syndicate was their best option: the ungrateful cunts should be thankful as they were responsible for keeping violent crime low, since no other criminal dares to try to operate on their turf. 

However with this revelation he knew he had to choose his words carefully from now on.  If she figured out he was Syndicate, she may very well attack him on the spot.  He had no idea what kind of programs he had on her omni-tool either, so he had to consider it a wildcard:  he hated wildcards.  Plus, he’d rather not make a scene and draw attention to himself, for it wasn’t his style. 

“So I take it you came here to start over?” he asked. 

“Indeed, after several years of trying to get the police to do something about them,” she growled.  “Corrupted and cowardly…the lot of them.”  The fire in her eyes then died a bit and her overall tone became more somber.  “Unfortunately there are either no openings for my expertise, or they don’t think I am capable of handing the job due to this.”  She lifted up her stump.  “Despite having this.”  She made a twitching motion in her stump and the omni-tool sprang to life, forming a holographic hand that almost perfectly replaced the missing part of her arm. 

“Impressive,” Usyle said, actually meaning it when he said it.  “Must have cost you a pretty credit to get that program.” 

“You could say that,” she said as she deactivated the program with another twitch.  “I was hoping getting it would improve my chances, but so far not so much.” 

“Your choice of attire is probably not helping matters, to be honest, miss.” 

“Oh, I don’t use _this…_ ” She pointed at her clothing. “For job hunting.  I have more appropriate attire in my room.” 

That was a bit of information he liked hearing.  “You have a room here?” 

“Aye, got it early this morning.  Came down here to relax and think over my options after an unsuccessful job hunt today.” 

_Hmm, she must have changed, left for a bit and came back down before the barkeep started his shift,_ he thought.  “How long have you been hunting?” he asked. 

“Too long,” she sighed.  “My savings are getting low.  I’ve been staying in places like this to help stretch it out, but that means taking the risk of getting the attention of lowlifes that would do me harm.” 

_You got that right, lady,_ Usyle thought, the cogs in his brain turning as he came up with a plan to deal with her.  “Indeed.  What is your expertise?  I may know some people that may need your talents….” 

“Mechanical engineering,” she replied, her tone hopeful.  However, no matter what she said, his reaction was going to be the same. 

“Ah.” He put on his best disappointed expression.  “Unfortunately, no one I know needs one of those at this time.” 

“Oh.”  Her tone was low and soft, her overall disposition now depressed. 

“I may be able to help you another way, however?”  That got her attention once more, her head tilted in curiosity a hint of desperation on her face.  Desperation…that was exactly what he needed.  “Though it would depend on just how desperate you are for money at this moment.” 

“Fairly.  I calculated that even staying in a cheapskate place like this, I have a week at most before I am out.  I’ve been considering relocating to Cirpritine, to see if my luck would be better there, but the cost of the fare would break me.” 

“I can give you more than enough to cover that cost, my dear,” he said smoothly.  “Perhaps a bit extra, depending on how well you… _entertain_ …me.” 

She got his meaning almost immediately, but unlike other women he had pulled this on, she didn’t recoil in revulsion.  Perhaps she had to do this before?  “Entertain…you mean sex,” she replied bluntly, but lowly.  “Why?  Your wife not putting out for you?” 

Usyle laughed.  “I’m not married,” he corrected.  “I couldn’t stand the thought of anchoring myself down with just one woman.” 

“Then why me?  Surely you’d prefer the less… _flawed_ …women.” 

“The flawed ones are more _interesting_.  After all, once you had sex with one ‘perfect girl’ you’ve pretty much done them all…which quickly becomes boring.” 

“An…interesting point,” she muttered, looking like she wasn’t sure how to take that. 

“I assure you I meant that as a compliment,” he said.  “Now, will you accept my offer?”  The woman was silent for a moment, her eyes shifting in various directions as she thought it over.  Weighing her options no doubt.  Then, at last, much to his delight, she nodded.  “Excellent, shall we order you a drink to help relax you?” 

“No,” she said shaking her head as she rose from her seat.  “My body doesn’t react well to alcohol.” 

“Technically no one’s does,” Usyle chuckled before draining his drink in a few gulps.  She seemed to disapprove of that. 

“Aren’t you worried about that affecting your…performance?” she asked. 

Usyle waved his hand dismissively.  “I’ve built up quite the tolerance for this shit over the years.”  Now he rose from his own seat and offered his hand to her.  “Shall we?” 

There was a slight hesitation before she accepted his hand, as if a part of her still doubted this was a good idea.  _Once I get you into that room it will be too late, my dear,_ he thought, giving her a reassuring smile.  Hand in hand, they walked up the stairs to the inn section of the building.  There the woman led him to her room. 

“So what is your name, kind sir?” she asked as she put in her access code.  “So I’d have a name to the face of the man that helped me in my time of need.” 

“Dias,” he replied, giving her one of his many alias. 

There was a very brief expression of ‘yeah right’ on her face before she stepped into her room.  Usyle chuckled quietly before following her.  She was indeed a smart one to automatically suspect he was using an alias.  _But not smart enough,_ he thought as he followed her in and looked around. 

It was only a one bed room, the bed itself not even big enough for two people.  The sheets looked clean enough, but the carpet had seen better days and was in serious need of a deep clean, if not full out replacement.  Only a couple of other pieces of furniture were in the room:  a nightstand and a basic dresser.  The nightstand had a built in communications console, though from how the screens flickered, it was on its last legs.  There was a holo-TV on the dresser, but that looked like it didn’t work at all. 

The bathroom entrance was just to his right, close to the room door.  Glancing briefly inside, he could see that many of the tiles were cracked and in dire need of a good scrubbing.  He could also hear the faint ‘plip’ of water dripping, though he couldn’t tell immediately if it was from the sink or the shower.  

Overall, it was typical for a cheapsake place like this in his experience.  He didn’t mind it, as he didn’t have to work so hard on the ‘clean up’.  That is if he had to do any clean up: some women were more _fragile_ than others.  Either way, it was perfect for his plans, so he turned on the ‘do not disturb’ sign before closing and locking the room door. 

“Do you mind candles?” the woman asked. “They help me relax.” 

“Whatever floats your boat,” Usyle said with a shrug as he started to undress, watching her go around and light a few of said candles with her omni-tool.  _Candles…seriously?  Did she pick up some of that human belief crap or something?_   It wouldn’t matter at the end though, for whatever deity she believed in won’t help her now. 

By the time he had his top fully off, she had finished with the candle lighting and was starting to undress herself.  He noted she had placed her omni-tool on the night stand and made a mental note to keep it out of her reach.  Since her back was currently toward him, so he took the opportunity to check to ensure his favorite _toy_ was still in its hiding spot: a cargo pocket in his pants.  “Need some assistance, ma’dam?” he asked after verifying the wooden handled object was still there.  “I imagine with only one hand, undressing is a bit of a struggle.” 

She paused a moment to consider, than shook her head.  “No thanks, I’ll manage,” she said as she finally shrugged off her top, revealing how extensive the scarring went on her torso.  It was actually one big scar that went from what was left of her left forearm, up the back of the rest of her arm up onto her shoulder blade, nearly reaching the rim of her cowl. 

_That had to hurt,_ he thought, with a smirk, feeling a little bit of pride at how much damage his organization does to people that cross them.  Odd though, they hadn’t done any bombings in a decade:  they had no need to, and this lady looked like would have been too young to be working for the state at their last bombing.  _There were no survivors then either,_ he thought as she pulled down her pants, revealing the second massive scar that rand all the way down the back-left side of her left leg.  _She would have had to have been fairly close with scars like that._ Something was starting to nag at him, but he couldn’t place it. 

“I’m ready if you are,” she said softly, looking back at him.  “Unless my scars repulse you.” 

_It won’t matter in a few minutes!_ Usyle told himself as he smiled at her.  “Oh no, as I told you before: I can look past scars, even ones like yours,” he said as he approached her, then lightly ran his hands down her shoulders and arms: she shivered at his touch.  “I can see why you hate the Syndicate so much,” he cooed.  “These scars mar a beautiful body.” 

“It wasn’t just my body they took from me…,” she said bitterly.  “I lost everything else as well.” 

“You still have your life.”  _Though not for long…_  

“Some life I’m living…having to sell myself to get money just to get by.” 

“I’m sure things will pick up for you.  Can we change the subject?” 

“Oh…yes…sorry.  Um…do you have a preferred position?” she asked, sounding ashamed. 

“Considering this is just a onetime fling, Varren style will do.” 

There was hesitant nod of agreement from her and he smiled wickedly as he reached down and pulled out his ‘toy’.  It felt good to have his garrote back in his hands, especially feeling the many notches he had carved into its handles:  each notch was a victim whose life he took with it.  Some were killed while doing a duty for the Syndicate, many others were simply for his satisfaction.  Tonight, a new notch will be carved. 

She still had her back to him, like a good girl, as she moved closer to the bed.  Once she was about to climb on it, he struck, wrapping the tough fabric cords of the garrote around her neck.  Not tight enough to start choking her, but not loose enough for her to pull it off either.  She gasped in surprise and reached up with her hand to grasp at the cord.  That won’t help her:  it wouldn’t have helped if she still had both hands.  “Scream and your life ends now,” he warned.  “How long you live will depend on how well you behave.  Also…resist and I will make your death long and painful.  Behave and it will be quick.  Your choice on how your life ends tonight, understood?” 

The woman was surprisingly calm aside from the initial shock.  It was almost as if she was _expecting_ this.  “Oh I understand, _perfectly,_ ” she cooed. 

_What is up with…AH!_   There was a sudden flash of heat and light.  He jerked back, nearly dropping the garrote.  The smell of something burning hit him, followed by the sudden slacking of the garrotes cord.  Usyle, having not expected that, staggered backward, hitting the dresser behind him.  Looking down, he saw his precious garrote was in two pieces…something had cut it.  _No, it was burned,_ he thought, remembering the smell.  _But…how…._   None of the candles were near enough to be used and her one hand had been on the cord itself…on the opposite side of where the cord was cut. 

Movement in front of him reminded him of her woman.  She was on the bed, slowly turning around to face him, her eyes burning with mix of hatred and a predator’s gaze.  Before he could really process what was going on, she flew at him.  With how small the room was, he had no time to dodge and her attack connected, slamming him back against the dresser, which was shoved against the wall with a loud thud.  Then, she went in for a headbutt.  Uysle, unable to move back due to the dresser, tilted his head up instead.  Her forehead connected with the bridge of his nose, resulting in a sickening crunch. 

“Agh!” On reflex, he punched her in the side of the face.  The woman didn’t even grunt as she was knocked away, hitting the floor only briefly before rolling back unto her feet.  He took the brief respite to check his condition:  his nose was bleeding, likely broken, but that was better than being dazed, or worse, knocked unconscious.  After all, he didn’t know what this woman’s intent was anymore. 

“You should not have resisted…,” the woman said, drawing his attention.  She looked smug, that hungry predator look still in her eyes.  “Your death would have been quick and painless…not that you deserve a merciful death, Usyle Museun.” 

_How the FUCK did she know my real name!?_ he thought, his eyes wide.  She was also mocking him, he realized, throwing almost the exact same words he used on her just moments ago. 

The woman herself was still just standing there, in a battle ready pose.  From her smile she obviously was enjoying the fact he was surprised over her knowledge of his real name.  “I’ve been hunting you for a while,” she continued.  “You’re the last one on my list….” 

“What are you, a Spectre?” he growled, not liking this turn of events.  He had heard Spectres were often willing to go to extreme measures to complete their mission.  However, as far as he knew, no one on the Syndicate was on their radar and he was careful to not target any one important.  Something wasn’t adding up. 

A part of him wanted to run, but there was a couple of problems with that.  One, she was between him and the door.  Second, was his pride:  he had never failed to kill a target and he wasn’t about to start a losing streak now.  Since she had to get through her anyway, he may as well kill her, even if it won’t be by a method he prefered. 

The woman had a brief expression of disgust at the mention of ‘Spectre’.  “No, not a Spectre,” she said flatly, then smiled a chilling smile.  It was the only warning he got before she leapt at him again. 

He was ready this time.  Usyle meet her leaping attack head on, grabbing her by both shoulders and then slammed her onto the bed.  With one hand he restrained her only hand, while with the other he started choking her and he also positioned his body between her legs so she couldn’t kick him.  “Awfully confident bitch, aren’t you?” he growled.  “You’re at a disadvantage with only one hand….” 

Instead of panicking, like he expected, the woman was very calm.  In fact, she just smiled at him with that same smile she used before.  _What is up with this woman?_   he thought. 

Then he noticed both hands were starting to feel hot.  Very hot.  It was like her skin had turned into a stove.  Usyle tried to ignore it, but it quickly became too hot for him to stand and he was forced to let go.  The woman wasted no time and struck him under the chin with an open handed palm strike.  Once more, he staggered back, now tasting blood in his mouth due to his own teeth piercing his gums from the force of the blow.  Before he could recover, she lashed out with a kick with a foot, hitting him in the face, mostly on his already broken nose.  His back hit the poor abused dresser once more.  Dazed, he lost his balance and toppled to the floor. 

_Get up, GET UP!_ his mind was screaming, but his body wouldn’t cooperate.  Suddenly he felt the woman grab him and roughly flip him onto his back.  He started to rise his hands to try to fend her off, but got punched in the head for his efforts, which nearly knocked him out completely.  Vaguely, he was aware of her forcing his right hand to the ground, then pinning it there with her knees.  His other hand she pinned against the dresser with her hand.  _What is she…._  

“You made me use more energy than I wanted,” she hissed, sounding slightly annoyed.  “Not that it matters…as I intend to drain you dry.”  Without further comment, she then lunged for his neck, Uysle feeling her sharp teeth piercing his flesh with little effort. 

That was the final clue he needed, albeit far too late.  _Vakar…_ , he thought, as he struggled to free himself, but he had no leverage:  the freak had positioned herself perfectly.   _How can that be?  We wiped them out on our colony over two centuries ago!_  

Yet, here one was, baring the markings of his colony, feeding on him.  Was she a refugee that was turned by vakar on other colonies?  _Figure it out later, idiot!_ he chided himself.  _I need to get free so I can kill this bitch!_  

Whether it was by will, or the vakar getting distracted by the feed, he managed to get left arm free.  With it, he started beating, scratching, and pushing on her, trying to get her off.  She seemed too engrossed with feeding to notice, hell, she wasn’t even making the effort to restrain that arm again.  _Eyes…go for the eyes!_   However, he could not reach her eyes with his talons due to her positioning.  Perhaps if he could free his other hand…. 

By now, he was starting to feel the effects of blood loss.  Spots were starting to dance in front of his eyes and he was feeling light headed.  _No…not like this…._ , he pleaded as he struggled to pull his other arm free.  _Not like this!_   The strength in his limbs was falling and along with it, his chance of surviving this.  _I’m the predator!  Not the prey!_  

His mental protests were for naught, as the vakar kept feeding.  Soon enough, he could barely lift his free arm.  _No…._   He could feel himself slipping into darkness of eternal sleep now.  _I am Usyle Museun…the assassin… of the…Black Syndicate._  

_I cannot…fall now.  I…cannot…_

_Fail…._

 

\--

 

Ky’yn only let go of her prey once he had breathed his last, breathing a sigh of relief.  _It’s over…it’s finally over,_ she thought, standing up.  

For nearly a year, she had been tracking down Syndicate agents like Usyle.  Eliminating them, one by one, to keep them from spreading to other colony worlds.  Now, she could finally go home, to her sect, whom she was certain was very worried about her, wondering if she was still alive. 

In truth, it was a very risky venture for her.  Not only was space travel risky on its own due to uncontrollable variables, but she risked going insanity by being away from her sect for so long.  That she hadn’t lost her mind was something of a miracle, though perhaps her foresight to program reminders to meditate helped.  The brief encounters with other vakar likely helped as well, though some were a bit…cool…to her little crusade. 

It didn’t matter how, for she has succeeded in her task.  Now all she had to worry about was getting back to Revati.  _But first…_  

She quickly searched through Usyle’s pockets, finding a few credit chips to add to her funds.  Ky’yn had built up a small fortune by ‘relieving’ the Syndicate agents of any money on their person.  After all, it was useless to them since they were dead.  She intended to use most of it for more honorable purposes before she arrived back home. 

After finding nothing else of value, she pulled out a proper set of clothing and started to dress.  Just then, the communication console started flashing in red.  At least tried to, as old and unmaintained as it was:  from the brief look she got, it was an emergency alert.  Outside the room, she heard other inn residents start to run about.  Only half dressed, she unlocked the door and poked her head out. 

In the hallway, various people were a mix of panic and…reading for battle?  She grabbed the arm of a passing asari.  “What is going on?”  she asked her.  “My comm console is broken.” 

“Commander Shepard was right!” the horrified alien cried.  “The Reapers are here!”  Ky’yn let go of the asari’s arm in shock and the woman quickly went on her way. 

She had heard rumors about the Reapers during her quest, but was too absorbed in her task to pay much heed to it.   Now those rumors were coming back to her, how the Reapers were meant to be the end of all sentient life in the galaxy.  If those things were as powerful as claimed, she was not going anywhere.  She was not going home. 

A new predator had arrived…and the whole galaxy was its prey.


End file.
